midnight mommies

Once you land on the European continent, each and every shrill scream that can be heard from your child’s mouth when she is angry and the “cute” tendency to knock things over and act like a lummox in a china shop will go from dwelling at the level of partially manageable to driving you totally insane.

When Gaelle unpacked her basket full of goodies and started simmering things on the stove, when she called my and her own well-behaved children “à table,” and when she finished the meal with a delicious but healthy dessert, I felt taken care of. Remembered. Loved! I can’t tell you how memories of that one generous gesture have cheered me over the months that Bob has been on assignment.

I should have known…diligence can only last for so long. Regular trips to the gym, healthy eating, a nice long storytime with the kids, a consistent routine of writing at night? It was all too much. Frankly, I can’t do it all. Who the heck can? Where did I get the idea that I could? And why do I keep on trying?

It’s official: I’m obsessed. Or maybe I’m depressed. Either way, I’ve been going a little bit crazy lately. Let’s talk symptoms first. Me, up really late at night, on my computer, obsessively combing the Internet for the Murray Family’s Perfect Summer Vacation 2010.No number of permutations for possible travel dates or beach destinations is too many.

I’m going to be honest with you. I’ve been messing up a lot lately. Truth be told, I just can’t seem to catch up these days. After three weeks on and off the road promoting StyleMatters, and a body that is in flux from my new healthy eating regimen, I’m feeling completely fried. Why am I sharing? I guess I just want to say it out loud to acknowledge for myself: I’m tired. But what’s a woman to do but get back up and keep on walking?